Future Shadows
by For You Blue
Summary: Beginning in 1975, The Doctor is coaxed by his companion, Sarah Jane Smith, into attending an interview in New York with a fellow reporter, who is harboring a tragic secret about the future...one involving The Doctor himself. (4th Doctor, Sarah Jane, Amy/Rory, 11th/River.) -Epilogue is now up-
1. I

**Future Shadows**

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**Summary:** _Beginning in 1975, The Doctor is coaxed by his companion, Sarah Jane Smith, into attending an interview in New York with a fellow reporter, who harbours a secret about the future, involving The Doctor himself. (4__th__ Doctor, Sarah Jane, Amy/Rory, 11__th__/River.)_

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**I**

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_U.N.I.T Headquarters, England, October 5__th__, 1975_

**N**_o_!"

Sarah Jane Smith rolled her large, hazel coloured eyes, in response to the muffled decline announced from under the brown, wool-felt fedora.

The brunette young reporter, (dressed in a simple, blue floral dress,) walked across the _U.N.I.T_ lounge to where the owner of the muffled voice (a long-limbed, tall, lanky figure of a man,) lay sprawled across a sofa on his back; the aforementioned fedora resting atop his face.

The man was clad in a mismatched, bohemian-like ensemble. (Comprised of ankle boots; light brown woolen pants; a fitted tartan vest over a wide-sleeved, white shirt; abnormally long, striped scarf; and a red satin necktie. A long, military-style, deep brown coat usually completed the outfit, this item was slung across the man's middle as a make-shift blanket.)

Sarah Jane sat on the arm-rest of the sofa her companion was sprawled upon and lifted up his fedora, glancing curiously down at the man, "Why not?" She queried, cocking her head to the side when no answer was forthcoming and the man kept his eyes shut. "Well, Doctor?"

Finally opening up one very blue eye, The Doctor sighed heavily and opened up both his eyes to look up at the young woman, "I don't want to go." He folded his arms across his chest and closed his eyes again. "Can I have my hat back now, please?"

Sarah clutched the fedora to her chest, "Not until you give me a concise explanation as to _why_ you don't want to come with me to meet A. J. Williams." She responded, "Williams is one of the most renowned journalists in the world–"

"Exactly, Sarah," The Doctor interrupted, not bothering to open up his eyes this time as he addressed Sarah Jane. "I dislike journalists. They're pushy, self-righteous bores, poking around the majority of the time where they are very much not wanted. Now, may I have my hat back, please?"

With a shocked huff, Sarah Jane prodded the right side of The Doctor's face with her right hand index finger, (maintaining her grip on the fedora with her left,) "Certainly not after that remark. _I_ happen to _be_ a journalist, Doctor." She tapped his nose to drive her point home.

Giving her his usual, wide, toothy grin, The Doctor finally opened up his eyes again to look up at the disgruntled young woman. "Yes. But you're Sarah Jane Smith first. And you're _only _a tedious annoyance, when you remember you _are_ a journalist. When you're being yourself, Sarah, my dear, you are most pleasant."

Sarah Jane raised her eyebrow, "Flattery –or whatever that attempt at it was– won't get you very far with me, at the present moment. If you're so inclined towards pleasant people, I'll have you know A. J. Williams is a lovely person. She's been nothing but gracious in offering to meet with me." She mentioned, turning away from The Doctor and crossing her white pump covered feet.

Let out an exasperated groan, the Gallifreyan Time Lord put his hands into the mess of tangled, chestnut coloured curls atop his head, "Exactly my point, Sarah._ You_ have been invited, _you_ should go. Have a lovely time. New York was quite interesting the last time I was there. I witnessed the purchase of Manhattan– although, the history books got it completely wrong, you know. The beads were actually–"

"But Doctor," Sarah Jane interrupted, turning back and staring pleadingly down at the alien man. "I thought you might like to meet Mrs Williams. She's a most remarkable woman; and she is the reason I became a journalist. I was inspired the moment I first read one of her articles."

The Doctor folded his arms across his chest and scowled, "Did I not just mention my dislike of journalists? And now you want me to meet the person who inspired you to become one?" He rolled over onto his side, facing the back of the sofa.

"No, thank-you. Leave my hat on the side-table before you go catch your plane, would you, Sarah? Send me a postcard when you get to New York. If you want to purchase one of those little souvenir, paper-weight snow-globes for me, that would be lovely of you–"

Sarah Jane bent down over the Doctor, pleading into his left ear, "Doctor, please–"

"–oh and whatever you do, don't get me anything with the Statue of Liberty. I _don't _like her. That statue sends shivers down my spine, for some reason that I've never been able to quite put my finger on…"

Sarah Jane lent her chin atop The Doctor's shoulder and grasped his upper arm, "Doctor, please listen to me a moment. This is important to me and I would love for you to be there. We can make a good holiday out of it. You're always looking for an excuse to get out of the U.N.I.T headquarters–"

"Yes," The Doctor half-turned and peered up at Sarah Jane, "for an _adventure_. Not a tiresome meet and greet with journalists of all beings." He turned back away, sighing heavily.

"But, if you're that adamant, provided you travel with me in the TARDIS –instead of making me take one of your primitive Earth aviation or sea based transportations– I'll accompany you."

Sarah put her arms around The Doctor, "Ooh. I _knew_ you'd come around once you knew how important this is to–"

"We're taking the TARDIS?" The Doctor pressed and Sarah Jane sighed and nodded, kissing his cheek.

"Yes, of course we are." Smith assured her alien companion, moving out of the way as The Doctor rolled over and offered out his hand. Sarah smiled broadly and handed back the fedora; which The Doctor promptly put atop his curly-haired head.

"Hmm. Well then," the Tim Lord reached across for his coat, "we'll set off tomorrow. Autumn in New York with Sarah Jane Smith," The Doctor got to his feet and offered Sarah Jane his arm. "I can think of nothing nicer, actually."

Sarah Jane took The Doctor's offered arm and got to her own feet, smiling up at the tall alien, "Neither can I, Doctor. Just think of it, a stroll together through Central Park, dotted with Autumn foliage…a carriage ride, afterwards? With hot-chocolate and the stars above us?"

The Doctor flashed his wide, toothy smile down at his companion as they headed out of the _U.N.I.T_ lounge. "Naturally. Only the very best for my Sarah Jane. Everything that can be done in New York, we'll do. The galleries; the museums; Broadway…we're going to take the 'Big Apple' by storm, Miss Smith." He vowed adamantly as they strolled down the hallway.

Sarah Jane laughed, "I'm so glad when you come out of your melancholy, Doctor. You're so much more _pleasant_, when you're excited."

-xxx-

_Central Park, New York. October 6__th__ 1975_

The cooing pigeons took flight into the late morning. Their mottled coloured wings flapping with impressive speed as they flew off in various directions as the blue, 1950's styled, London Police Phone Box materialized slowly.

The TARDIS' chameleon-circuit had been damaged for fifteen years now; and thus the time-traveling spaceship had remained as a nondescript, London Police Box.

Making her usual wheezing sound, the TARDIS finally made her landing between two trees on an embankment, nearby a bridge.

The doors opened a moment later and Sarah Jane was the first out, taking in a deep breath and smiling at the cool scent. Dressed in dark brown flares, a fitted white shirt and a dark blue blazer; a pair of heeled, dark brown ankle boots and a white box purse, (tossed over her right shoulder,) finished off the journalist's ensemble.

Waiting for her companion to step out of the TARDIS, Sarah Jane stepped aside as The Doctor finally exited his beloved ship; pulling out his key and locking the blue-box.

"Are you sure I look okay, Doctor?" Smith questioned, turning around once and gazing questioningly up at him.

The Doctor smiled and nodded, pocketing his TARDIS key. "As I assured you before, Sarah, you look _most_ charming. Very elegant, my dear." He reassured his companion, leaning against the TARDIS and folding his arms across his chest.

Sarah Jane pulled her compact out of her white purse; and flipped it open to give herself a once over, "You're certain? I don't know if I should go get a haircut before we meet with Mrs Williams, it's getting rather long–"

"Oh, don't you dare," The Doctor interrupted, pointing a finger at his companion. "Your hair looks lovely, Sarah. You look lovely." He assured the nervous young woman.

Sarah Jane beamed up at the Doctor, "Really?"

The Doctor nodded, "Yes, of course. But the more important question is," he turned around as Sarah Jane had done and held out his hands. "Do I look okay?"

Laughing, Sarah Jane looped her arm through The Doctor's left, "Oh, you big vain thing." She managed to tease between giggles, as The Doctor led them out onto the path leading towards the bridge.

The Doctor chuckled himself and turned to tap Sarah Jane's nose, "Laughter is often the best medicine for many things, including nervousness. Relax, Sarah," he soothed, patting the young reporter's pale hand, with his free right hand.

"It's not like you to be so jumpy. But, I do understand."

Sarah Jane glanced up at her companion, as they crossed over the stone bridge, "You do? Were you ever nervous to meet someone who inspired you?" She questioned and The Doctor nodded.

"Many people, Sarah. I suppose we all form an ideal about those we admire. What we'll say to them when or if we ever meet them; how we'll impress them in some way if we can…" The Doctor smiled and glanced away.

"I'm very old, Sarah. And I've met many, many people that I admire. That feeling never goes away, though. No amount of arrogance or wisdom ever seems to cure it. Personally, I'm glad it remains. It makes life so much more exciting, in my opinion."

Sarah Jane lent her head against The Doctor's arm, "And it is an _excellent_ opinion, in my own." She looked up at him. "Don't ever lose it, Doctor. It makes you the wonder that you are."

The Doctor removed his left arm from Sarah Jane's right and put it around her shoulders instead, drawing her nearer to him; close enough for the young woman to hear the Gallifreyan's binary hearts, beating steadily through his broad chest.

"Oh, my Sarah Jane." The Time Lord murmured, as they strolled off of the bridge and back onto the path. "There is no-one like you in the whole universe. Don't leave me, my dear. Not yet." The Doctor pleaded softly –almost in a whisper– like he was intoning a mantra.

Sarah Jane shook her head, "Not ever, Doctor. I won't ever leave you." She assured him adamantly. Feeling his chest rise and fall in a heavy sigh, the young woman glanced up to see The Doctor staring straight ahead.

"You will, one day, my Sarah." The Doctor bent down to kiss the top of Sarah Jane's head, breathing in her sweet scent as he did so. "Just not now. Maybe not even in the future. But we all have a beginning and an end. One day it will come for us all."

Sarah Jane burrowed her face into The Doctor's coat and narrowed her hazel coloured eyes, "Don't talk of such things, now, Doctor. You promised me to not be so melancholy on this trip." She pointed out, slightly put-out that their pleasant stroll had turn to solemn conversation.

The Doctor sighed again and smiled, "Yes, I did promise. All right, no more talk of these melancholic, inevitable things I bemoan far too much about lately." He avowed and Sarah Jane pulled back, flashing The Doctor a small smile as the alien man continued.

"Let's get you to the restaurant to meet with your Mrs Williams. I just hope they make a decent cup of tea and tolerable sandwiches," The Doctor grasped Sarah Jane's right hand in his left and tugged her along, the young woman laughing at his determination.

"Come along, Sarah. Let's pick up our pace."

-xxx-

The small restaurant, (more like a café,) in lower-Manhattan, was charming in its own little art deco styled fashion.

Very much a throwback to a bygone era, it was a favourite place of writers, musicians and visual artists. The aura it had maintained during the sixties as a free-wheeling, bohemian type hang-out for artisans, had remained despite the more serious tone of the seventies; and this suited the aging journalist just fine.

Seated at the small table in the corner near the unlit fireplace, the aforementioned journalist was nursing a cup of coffee and gazing out thoughtfully at the small crowd in the tiny eatery.

With her faded red hair pulled up into a simple bun at the back of her head and large, tortoiseshell glasses perched on the rim of her nose, Amelia Jessica Williams née Pond, was beginning to feel her over seventy years of life.

Not that all of her years had been spent gazing about cafés in lower-Manhattan, no. Amelia's first thirty-one years of life hadn't even been spent in this era of time, let alone in this country.

Amelia Jessica Pond had been born in Scotland in 1987. She had married her husband, Rory Williams, in 2011 in Leedsworth, England. She had had her child in the following year on an alien space-station called _Demon's Run_. Amelia published her first novel, _Melody Malone_, in 1963.

How? Three words: The Weeping Angels. One name: The Doctor.

Amelia had long ago shed the last tears for her lost life. She had Rory. She had sacrificed her 'Raggedy Doctor' and his wife, her daughter, Melody Pond/River Song. Amelia knew, given the chance, she would make that decision time and time again.

_Never without Rory. Not in this life. Not in a do over. _

It had been over so quickly, just turning away from the Weeping Angel, a quick blink and the residual time energy stolen as Amelia was shot back in time, to the nineteen-thirties. Where there had been no small mercy in that her Rory had been sent back to the same time, by the Angel, previously.

Her husband. Dr. Rory Arthur Williams. One-time nurse, one-time Last Centaurian. He had left her just a moment ago to visit the bathroom. Amelia had wanted Rory to come along, just in case she was right about their guest.

Sarah Jane Smith. A British reporter.

A British reporter who was often on special assignment for _U.N.I.T_ . Smith was someone who was often in close contact with Brigadier Alastair Gordon Lethbridge-Stuart; and often reported information directly from him.

Amelia knew it was a long-shot, but she thought it might be a way to contact her 'Raggedy-Man' Doctor, one last time.

One of the last times she'd been together with The Doctor, (during the cube incident,) she'd met Katherine Stuart, the daughter of the Brigadier. The Doctor had been very close friends with Kate's father; and had been working for _U.N.I.T_ during the seventies.

_I'm praying this is the right opportunity_. Amelia knew that this was a possibility of closure for herself, and maybe for Rory too. Even if Sarah Jane Smith only find some way to give the Doctor a copy of _Melody Malone_, so one day he'd find it; and then read it out-loud to a much younger Amelia in Central Park. That would be enough.

The Doctor didn't know his beloved 'Ponds', yet. They couldn't create a paradox…not anymore.

Chances were Smith didn't even know who The Doctor was…but the Brigadier knew, and Miss Smith knew the Brigadier. _Yes…it's enough_. Amelia resolved, taking a sip of her coffee.

_We said our good-byes, Raggedy-man. There's no need; and there is nothing to say to someone who hasn't even met you yet._

Glancing back up at when the bell chimed on the door, announcing the arrival of another customer, Amelia starred over at the couple who entered the restaurant.

The brunette woman –dressed neatly– was of average height, pretty and large eyed. The young woman's companion was tall –around six-four in height– and broad shouldered. The man was wearing a fedora –which he docked off his head while Amelia observed the couple, revealing curly brown locks– a long coat; and an abnormally long, striped scarf.

The young woman standing in the entranceway, glanced around before recognizing Amelia and waving over at her, before taking the hand of her tall, oddly clad friend and making their way over to William's table.

Amelia was startled for a moment, _I've seen this woman before…wait…the TARDIS records…_ the middle-aged reporter remembered.

Long ago, during her first trip in the TARDIS, Amy Pond had tricked The Doctor into accessing his past companion records. This woman had been one of them, Amelia was sure of it.

_She must be __**the**__ Sarah Jane. The former companion The Doctor told me about visiting while Rory and I were on that honey-moon. She's probably travelled, or about to, with The Doctor. Funny, he never did mention that she was a journalist…_

The young woman approached Amelia and held out her hand, "Mrs Williams, I'm Sarah Jane Smith. I can't tell you what an honour it is to finally meet you," Sarah Jane revealed herself and Amelia could have embraced the younger woman in relief.

"And it's an honour to meet you too, Miss Smith. I've read your articles, you're quite a talent. I don't think I had even a quarter of your skill at your age," Amelia complimented, grasping Sarah Jane's offered hand in both of hers as she shook it, smiling down at the young reporter.

Glancing up at Sarah Jane's companion, Amelia was slightly thrown off by the deep, penetrating, light-blue eyed gaze of the man. He was silently looking her over, keeping his face expressionless. Amelia had never seen this man before in her life…but that look on his features was so oddly familiar…

"Who is your friend?" Amelia directed the curious question at Sarah Jane, who motioned between her friend and Williams.

"Mrs Williams, allow me to introduce my companion, Doctor John Smith. No relation." Sarah Jane introduced quickly. Amelia offered her hand and the strange man took it firmly in his own, giving her a small smile.

"It's nice to meet you, Dr. Smith–"

"Please," The man's voice was deep, commanding and resounding. "Just call me The Doctor."

Amelia starred, _No…it __**can't **__be…_ "Does everyone just call you, The Doctor?" She hesitantly voiced. _I know he can change his face… this is a totally different man…but those eyes. They're a different colour, but the expression…wait for his reply. You'll know then. _

Doctor 'Smith' blinked his eyes at the middle-aged woman and smiled a little more, actually showing his large set of teeth this time. "Why, yes they do. I'm not really sure why, but they do. Just 'The Doctor', Mrs Williams."

At that moment, Amelia wanted nothing more than to fling her arms around her future best-friend and weep. _It's you…it's really __**you**__…my own Raggedy-Doctor. I have so much that I could tell you…but you're not the you I know…did know…yet._

But, instead, Amelia had to settle for grasping The Doctor's offered hand in both her own, smiling up at him with all the pleasure of seeing her friend again, even if he didn't know her yet. "Well, it's very, very nice to meet you too, Doctor."

The Doctor gazed at her curiously, before nodding his head, "Likewise, Mrs Williams," he responded, not quite sure why there was a slight glassiness to the reporter's lovely eyes.

Amelia pulled back her hands –although loth to do so– and motioned to the chairs, "Please, take a seat," she couldn't take her eyes off of this younger version of her best friend. _He's not so different, really. He physically looks different…but that fashion sense…_ "I must say, Doctor, you have quite an interesting flair for fashion. I like your scarf."

The Doctor lifted up a corner of his long scarf –wound about his neck– and narrowed his eyes down at the item, "Yes. I'm not really sure where I picked up the thing, but I am rather fond of it." He admitted, pulling out a chair for Sarah Jane, waiting for her to sit down before he pulled out the one beside her for himself.

Amelia inwardly grinned, "Oh it's very cool, Doctor. Scarves are cool." She couldn't help herself; and Sarah Jane raised her brow in surprise at the term from the middle-aged woman, while The Doctor flashed his wide, toothy grin.

"Oh really? You really think so? Yes, I suppose it is." The Doctor glanced aside at Sarah Jane and pointed over at Amelia. "You were right. She _is_ most pleasant."

Sarah Jane smiled and patted The Doctor's hand, "There, you see?" She spoke so tenderly to The Doctor, she smiled back over at Amelia. "I told him I'd change his opinion of reporters, Mrs Williams."

Amelia smiled and took a sip of her coffee, she remembered how fondly The Doctor had spoken of his former assistant. "_My Sarah Jane_," he called her. Amelia had never heard him speak like that about anyone; even River, (whom The Doctor seemed to be more or less blown away by, rather than charmed. )

"I'm glad to help, Miss Smith," Amelia winked, sharing an inside joke with Sarah Jane that was completely one-sided. Sarah Jane smiled hesitantly in response and turned her gaze over at where a greying haired man –with a prominent nose and kindly eyes– was approaching their table.

"Please don't get up," the man said, offering his hand to Sarah Jane. "You must be Miss Smith, how do you do? I'm Dr. Williams."

Sarah Jane smiled up at the older man, his hair swept back in an old fashioned style. "How do you do, sir?" She greeted, glancing behind at The Doctor, "This is–"

"This is The Doctor, Arthur," Amelia interrupted gently, (her husband now went by his middle name in most circles.)

Rory Williams stared wide-eyed at the strangely dressed man, before glancing aside at Amelia, "Just 'The Doctor'?" He looked over at The Doctor again, before blinking over at his wife. "_The_ Doctor?" Amelia nodded and Rory stepped around Sarah Jane to shake The Doctor's offered hand.

"Well…how are you, Doctor?"

The Doctor inclined his head, "Just fine, thank-you, Williams." He replied, wondering only passingly at the smile Williams shared with his wife, after hearing that greeting.

"That's good to hear." Rory glanced over at his wife, who was still settling her eyes every so often over at The Doctor. "Right. Well, I don't mean to be discourteous, Miss Smith, but I was wondering if you would be so kind as to help me bring back some lunch for everyone?"

Sarah Jane's eyes darted between her idol and her idol's husband, before nodding, "Certainly, Dr. Williams," she got to her feet and bent down so she was level with The Doctor's ear. "Please behave yourself." Smith whispered in the Time Lord's ear.

The Doctor turned and looked innocently up at his companion, "Naturally, Sarah." He responded non-commitedly, giving a small wave as Sarah Jane allowed Dr. Williams to lead her over to the crowded bar.

Settling back in his simple wooden chair, The Doctor smiled over at Amelia. "She worries so, my Sarah Jane."

Amelia cocked her head to the side, "I can see that she cares very much for you, Doctor," she picked up her spoon, to idlely stir the small amount of coffee remaining in her mug. "Do you care for her, Doctor?"

The Doctor folded his arms across his chest, "Of course I do. Sarah Jane and I have been as thick as thieves for years now. I–I had an accident over half-a-year ago, now, and she was the first face I saw when I woke up." He revealed and Amelia stared at that man –both strange and familiar–sitting across from her.

"_You were the first face this new old face ever saw_…" _He must have regenerated while Sarah Jane was with him._

Amelia smiled and lowered her eyes as she let out a sad chuckle.

"What is it?" The Doctor voiced and the middle-aged, red-haired Scottish native glanced back over at her guest's companion with a sigh.

"It's nothing. It's just you remind me of someone I knew a long time ago." Amelia admitted, putting her spoon back on her saucer.

The Doctor nodded, leaning forward and clasping his large hands on the table. "It's a likely coincidence, Mrs Williams, I was just thinking that you remind _me_ of someone I knew a long time ago."

Amelia nodded, "Oh…was she Scottish, too?" She ventured, thinking about how much more closed-up and tense her _Raggedy_ Doctor had been, as opposed to his _Teeth and Curls _version.

Shaking his head, The Doctor revealed those prominent teeth of his again as he smiled, "No, no my Mother wasn't Scottish."

Williams née Pond nodded, but inside she was completely shocked. _His Mother? He never mentioned anything about his heritage to me. Nothing about his family in particular…_

"She had red hair like yours, but curling." The Doctor continued, moving the salt and pepper shakers across the table with two fingers. "Her eyes were lighter than yours as well. But the way she carried herself and the way she made people comfortable right away…I suppose it is a way of mothers."

Amelia raised her brow, "Pardon me?"

The Doctor glanced up, "You are a parent, aren't you?" He queried and Amelia nodded hurriedly, the feeling of déjà vu almost overwhelming.

"I…I am," Amelia reached over for her purse and pulled out her wallet, taking out a photograph of a good-looking boy with brown, shaggy, ear-length hair. "This is my son, Anthony. It was taken quite a few years ago. He's almost thirty."

The Doctor smiled and looked at the black and white picture, "Children are a blessing." He added softly, handing back the photograph to Amelia, who smiled and nodded, before hesitantly locking eyes with The Doctor.

"Are you a parent, Doctor?" Amelia had ventured this question before to her _Raggedy_ Doctor, and had only gotten a pain-filled glance in response.

"I was," The Doctor responded solemnly. "I had two children. My daughter passed away and I do not see my son. I don't really see _any_ of my family, nowadays." He stared at Amelia, who winced sympathetically. "I see I also touched a nerve, Mrs Williams."

Amelia flashed a small smile, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been so blunt with my questions, Doctor. Forgive me, it's in my nature, I'm sorry if this affects your opinions on reporters." She forced a chuckle and The Doctor continued to stare at her, but smiled gently.

"Well, to be honest, they weren't at very high to begin with, Mrs Williams. It's quite all right, we'll speak no more on the subject," The Doctor dismissed, leaning back on his chair again. "You'll have to forgive me as well, I'm not much for small talk. I spend a lot of time alone in my laboratory."

Amelia nodded glibly, cocking her head to the side, "Miss Smith must keep you on your toes, some of her reports suggest that she's a rather adventurous young woman," she tried to see if The Doctor might feign a little bit of truth and reveal something of his latest adventures.

Staring again at her solemnly, The Doctor leaned forward, "You act as if you're waiting for me to say something revealing. I can assure you, Mrs Williams, any secrets of U.N.I.T or relating to myself on a personal level, shall remain as such, secrets." He responded mildly. But there was that familiar angry, protective threat behind the seemingly mild tone of reply.

Mrs Williams held up her hands, "All right, I surrender. I promise to keep to two subjects, the weather and everyone's health, from now on," she joked, but inwardly Amelia felt the pain from the way The Doctor regarded her as a stranger; addressing her with cool politeness.

The Doctor smiled thinly in response and looked away to his left, not catching the fallen expression of his future companion and erstwhile mother-in-law; who bit her lower lip and glanced to her left. Amelia hoped The Doctor also didn't catch the glassiness in her bespectacled eyes.

_I was your Pond, Doctor. Your Amelia Pond, like a name in a fairytale. Although now, I suppose for you I won't be your Amelia Pond for many years yet. But I am, right now, still your Amelia Pond, 'The Girl Who Waited'. Just as much as your 'My Sarah Jane' is to you right now. And you're still my Raggedy Doctor. My poor, sad Raggedy Man, who still has so much to go through…_

"I brought you a proper English tea, Doctor and a roast beef sandwich." Sarah Jane's sweet voice broke through Amelia's thoughts and ended the awkward silence. The young reporter placed the tea and saucer in front of The Doctor, then put down his sandwich plate as she put down her own tea and sandwich.

"Ah, thank-you, Sarah," The Doctor smiled up at his assistant, his tone once again jovial as he reached across for the sugar shaker. "Although, I don't know quite how proper this 'American English' tea's going to be."

Rory placed a salad roll and another coffee down in front of his spouse, sitting down beside Amelia just after Sarah Jane had sat down back next to The Doctor. "Everything all right?" He whispered in his wife's ear, putting down his own sandwich and a cola. "I know that look."

Amelia turned her gaze over to her husband, "There's nothing wrong, don't give me that stupid face, Williams," she hissed back, nudging him away and staring down at her coffee.

"Mrs Williams?"

"Hmm?" Amelia looked over at Sarah Jane, who had pulled out a notepad and pencil. "Oh… Miss Smith…Sarah Jane, would it be all right if we have lunch first? I promise I will answer every question you have." She needed a moment –or several– to compose herself out of her sadness. _I didn't think it would be this hard…then again I never thought I would ever see him again…_

Sarah Jane nodded and smiled, "Of course, Mrs Williams–"

"Amelia." Amelia insisted with a small smile in response.

"–Amelia," Sarah Jane amended, popping her notepad back in her purse and reaching over for her tea.

There was a moment's silence around the table, The Doctor munching away on his sandwich, glancing aside suspiciously every so often at Amelia; who was mildly picking at her roll, pretending not to notice.

_I see you, Raggedy Man. But I'm not going to say a damn word._ Amelia thought crossly.

Rory, –cutting into his open club-sandwich– glanced between The Doctor and his scowling wife. He'd never like awkward silences and this happened to be the worst kind of awkward silence.

_Hell, this might be the most awkward of awkward silences, since The Doctor told me he kissed my fiancée at my Stag party… _

Sarah Jane had also noticed the coldness brewing between The Doctor and Amelia, nibbling on her sandwich with not much of an appetite, she was currently feeding off her own sense of curiosity. _What happened in those few minutes between them, while I was with Dr. Williams_?

There was the soft sound of music –coming from the jukebox in the far corner– that wafted over the noisy chatting going on in the busy café, Amelia smiled at the soft opening strains of the song, humming along to it unconsciously.

_Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night  
And wouldn't you love to love her?  
Takes to the sky like a bird in flight… _

Sarah Jane's eyes lit up as she lowered the cup from her lips, "I love this song," she admitted and Amelia nodded her head.

"Me too…_All your life you've never seen a woman taken by the wind_…" Amelia sang along, "I love it. My Mother used to sing this song all the time to me when I was a little girl…" she trailed off, realising her mistake when Rory squeezed her hand in warning.

Sarah Jane let out a laugh, "Oh but she _can't _of! It was only released this year, Mrs Williams," she pointed out.

The Doctor nodded his head, "Sarah Jane insisted on playing that album, ad nauseum, when it first came out," he added, the suspicion in his eyes growing.

Amelia smiled hurriedly, "Of course not. But it reminds me of another, much older song she used to sing to me," she hurriedly amended. Sarah Jane nodded and Amelia glanced aside to see The Doctor's reaction.

The Doctor's aforementioned reaction was a surprising one, he was chewing on a mouthful of his sandwich, smiling at Amelia, like he'd figured out something. Something that put his previous serious suspicion of Amelia Williams to rest.

_Oh dear…_

"It's all right, Mrs Williams. I just don't meet many people your age that enjoy modern music that much," Sarah Jane smiled broadly. "Or use the term 'cool'."

"Nor have I," The Doctor immediately adjoined, that toothy smirk growing wider. "Most unusual." He took a sip of his tea and smirked over at the Williams.

Dr. Williams held up his hands, "Oh no, no. We're very _usual_, Doctor," he put his arms around Amelia's shoulders. "I mean…normal. Just very, very normal. Very dull. Amelia writes her articles, I run a day practice. That's all. In bed at every evening after the Late Show."

The Doctor nodded his head and smiled that 'cat-that-got-the-cream' smile, "Quite." He picked up a spoon to stir his tea, "The Williams. Very usual."

"Doctor!" Sarah Jane admonished, but Amelia actually chuckled and glanced aside at her husband. Rory was also hiding a laugh behind his hand. The middle-aged couple not being able to help themselves.

"It's all right, Sarah Jane," Amelia assured the shocked young woman, "I'm afraid Arthur and I have picked up on some of our son's slang. Plus some of my interns are fond of taking us out to those discos, aren't they, dear?" She questioned Rory; who deliberately took a large mouthful of his food, so he'd only have to nod in assent as he chewed.

The Doctor had obviously grown bored –his suspicions put to rest even though he hadn't voiced anything yet– and was poking at the last of his sandwich with a fork, "Music nowadays is quite tame compared to what's to come," he muttered under his breath, eyes narrowed.

Amelia took a sip of her coffee, pretending not to have heard The Doctor. _He's even more childish here and now than he was–will be, rather–in the future. He's definitely right about being a grouchy old man sometimes, really…he never did tell me how long Time Lords live for…_

When they'd finished lunch in pretty much silence, Rory got up from his chair, obviously eager to make some sort of escape from the awkwardness.

"Well, I suppose I should go get us some dessert –"

The Doctor raised his hand as he interrupted the medical doctor, standing up himself, "I think it's only fair that Mrs Williams and I go fetch desert. If she'd be so gracious as to accompany me?" He invoked and Amelia nodded, getting to her feet and stepping around the table to follow the lanky alien.

"Of course, Doctor. We won't be a moment," Amelia excused herself and followed after The Doctor. When they were both standing in front of the desert case, The Doctor leaned down to Amelia's ear level.

"The nineteen-seventies, eighties or nineties?"

Amelia glanced aside at him, before turning her gaze back to the array of cakes and sweets, "Pardon?"

The Doctor smiled slightly, Amelia catching the reflection of his expression in the glass of the desert case. "When you were really born, Mrs Williams." He responded simply. "For your mother to have loved to sing you something produced only this year, the likely date of your birth is in the later part of the twentieth century. Don't act surprised, just answer my question."

Amelia swallowed back a happy sob, _My Raggedy Doctor_, "Eighties. I was born in 1987…will be…it–" she took in a shaky breath, "–it's a bit difficult to keep replacing tenses." She whispered back, looking up at the server who had just appear behind the counter. "I'll have two chocolate éclairs. Doctor?"

The Doctor leaned down to study the sweets behind the glass. "Oh, some of that cherry pie and a slice of that carrot cake." He ordered, the server nodded and stepped back to go get some plates to place their orders upon. The Doctor leaned back down to whisper in Amelia's ear.

"What happened, Mrs Williams?"

The middle-aged woman pinched the bridge of her nose, "The Weeping Angels, Doctor." She said simply, The Doctor took in a sharp breath and Amelia continued. "I can't tell you when, I can't tell you why." Amelia glanced up at The Doctor.

"I can't even tell you who, Doctor. And don't make me say anything more."

The Doctor nodded solemnly, "I see. I understand. It's a future matter," he glanced up at where the server had placed the plates with their party's respective deserts on a tray. "Thank-you," The Doctor thanked the server, picking up the tray before he and Amelia made their way back.

"I do like to lecture on about paradoxes. I'm sorry."

Amelia rested her hand on The Doctor's arm and they both halted, "Don't be. Please don't be. I have a good life here with my husband, I know," she took in a deep breath, "you blame yourself so much for so many things. But when the time comes, please promise me not to blame yourself at all, please?"

The Doctor sighed and gave Amelia a small smile, "I can't make any promises for my future self, unfortunately Mrs Williams." The Doctor raised his brow, "I may not be the same man I am right now."

Amelia smiled and squeezed his arm before letting go, "You're always The Doctor," she assured him as they continued walking back to the table, where Sarah Jane and Rory were waiting expectantly. "And I will always have faith in whatever you do."

The next hour or so was spent pleasantly, Sarah Jane questioned Amelia on her influences and life. The Doctor asked no further questions about the future and instead had a conversation with Rory about current medical practices and what research was being done; gently dropping in hints, but enough that Rory picked up on what The Doctor knew. Rory let him know –just as subtly– that he was only aiding in future development, not advancing the human race faster than what was necessary.

Then, just like that, it was starting to get dark and they ended the interview.

Sarah Jane stood up and offered her hand to Amelia, "It was lovely to meet you, Amelia." She thanked the older woman, who took the young reporters hand in her own as The Doctor said good-bye to Rory.

"You too, Sarah Jane. I hope we meet again." Amelia dropped her hand and then turned to The Doctor, "And you, it was lovely meeting you, Doctor." _One more time_. She added silently.

The Doctor gripped Amelia's hand in his own, "The pleasure was mine, Amelia Williams. And I must say, you have changed my opinion on reporters quite a lot, almost as much as Sarah Jane." He assured her kindly, his eyes full of understanding.

Amelia looked between them, "Are you staying in New York for a while?" She questioned and Sarah Jane glanced up at The Doctor.

"For tonight. The Doctor has promised to take me to a Broadway show and then a carriage ride," Sarah Jane linked her arm through The Doctor's. "I hope he hasn't forgotten what he promised me."

The Doctor patted Sarah Jane's hand, "I don't forget anything, my dear." He replied.

They moved to depart and Amelia remembered, "Oh, may I talk to Sarah Jane a moment, privately, before you go, Doctor?" She queried and The Doctor nodded– suspicion in his gaze– but he let go of Sarah's hand.

"Of course. I'll be outside, Mrs Williams, Dr. Williams," The Doctor put back on his hat and tipped it as he headed towards the exit.

Once The Doctor had departed, Amelia reached into her bag and pulled out a novel, with a blonde-haired, classic femme fatale on the cover. "Sarah Jane, I want you to give this to The Doctor." She handed it to the younger woman.

Sarah Jane looked down at the book, "Melody Malone? I read this book as a teenager, I loved it…but," she stared at Amelia. "Why do you want me to give this to The Doctor?"

Amelia smiled, "I wanted to give it to him earlier, but he refused, saying he doesn't like presents. But I was hoping you might slip it to him rather sneakily if you can," she winked at Sarah Jane, who laughed as she put the novel in her purse, clipping it shut.

"Oh that's him all right. I'll see he gets it," Smith promised, offering her hand to Rory. "Dr. Williams."

"Miss Smith," Rory replied with a smile. Sarah Jane gave them a departing wave as she walked away and out of the restaurant.

-xxx-

Sarah Jane walked out of the café and saw The Doctor leaning against a lamppost, "There you are, Doctor." She greeted.

The Doctor smiled and offered his arm, "Here I am, Sarah Jane." He waited as Sarah Jane linked her arm through his before they set off at a brisk pace. "Now, what show are we going to see?"

Sarah Jane lent her head against The Doctor's arm, "Joseph And The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat?" She suggested.

The Doctor sighed over-dramatically. "I suppose so. Come to New York to watch a show penned by two Brits. How very British of you, Sara Jane."

Sarah Jane laughed as they turned around the corner, "Just supporting our boys, Doctor. I'm sure you'd do the same if Broadway had a show written by Gallifreyans."

"Don't count on it, Sarah. Gallifreyan entertainment is more like a melodrama then any human modern musical. Beings in colourful costumes, long-winded speeches and a lot of posturing about, pretending to be important…actually, that's the Parliament Arena…no…actually, I think they're the same thing…"

-xxx-

The Williams could see The Doctor and Sarah Jane walk past the large, bay window of the café and down the left side of the street. Amelia smiled through the tears beginning to weal in her eyes as The Doctor walked out of their life for the last time.

"Good-bye, my Raggedy Doctor. And thank-you for it all." Amelia murmured. Rory put his arm around her shoulders, and Amelia rested her head on his shoulder.


	2. II

**II**

* * *

_TARDIS Int. 12__th__ September, 2012_

"Doctor!" Amy called out, walking down the TARDIS hallways, "Doctor?"

"In here!" A voice called out from one of the nearby rooms and Amy poked her head around the doorway, her long, loose red hair falling down over her shoulder as she did.

"Where are you, we've got to meet Rory–" Amy stared around at the huge room, filled with literally dozens upon dozens of racks of clothing. "–whoa…"

The Doctor's head popped up from where he was rummaging through a stack of clothing, up on the second level. "Oh, hello, Pond." He waved and ducked back down. "Don't mind me, I'll just be a second, or two."

Amy looked around as she climbed up the staircase, reaching out to flick through a row of velvet jackets, followed by a row of lacy-sleeved, ruffled shirts. "What is this place? Is this where you got that ton of clothing you literally dumped on my bed, after the Space-Whale adventure?" She queried, turning around to see The Doctor sitting Turkish-style in the middle of a pile of clothing.

"Yes, this is the wardrobe room," The Doctor was wearing an Edwardian style Cricket jacket and was holding a cricket bat. "I came in here looking for another bow-tie and I got to reminiscing, as I do. I'm over twelve hundred years old now, after all." He stood up and moved the bat in a motion.

Amy laughed, "_You_ played cricket?" She questioned disbelievingly.

The Doctor smiled and winked. "Well, not really…actually, yes. But not professionally, just amateur. My friend, Tegan, said I might get a spot on the English team, even the way I played. But this was back in the eighties and she was Australian, so she was bias. " The Doctor glanced down at his left lapel and sighed.

"It's just not the same without a stick of celery."

Amy raised her brow, "Celery?"

The Doctor shrugged and nodded, putting aside the bat and shedding the coat, "Not many men can pull of a decorative vegetable, fortunately, I can…or could, rather," he pushed back his lanky hair as he sat back down on the floor. "First time I was a blond. Been a blond three times actually, closest I ever got to being ginger, so far."

Amy chuckled and picked up a brown fedora, "You must think you're _so_ impressive." She put on the fedora. "Do you use that as a pick-up line?: _Hello, I'm The Doctor. I've been eleven different men_," she put on a deepened voice and pulled down the brim of her hat, jutting out her lower-lip and looking up at her friend.

The Doctor pointed a finger as he tossed aside a multicolored blazer-jacket, "Actually, I'm always the same man, different face," he slapped his cheeks for emphasis; and Amy flopped down next to him, transferring the fedora to The Doctor's head.

"Oh, I've known two-faced men before, but you're the eleven-faced man. Sounds like a B-grade horror movie from the fifties." Amy pulled on a black leather coat, "Ooh, I like this. Can I have it?"

The Doctor glanced aside, "Sure. I'm not going to wear it ever again," he dismissed, Amy rolled up the sleeves of the jacket slightly; and rested her chin on The Doctor's shoulder as he wound a cravat around his hand.

"Did you wear this during a rebellious regeneration? Doctor without a cause?"

The Doctor glanced aside, "Hmm? Oh, no. Regeneration nine. Post-war traumatic regeneration, actually." He added, glancing down at the cravat. "Wasn't a pleasant experience, I didn't want to regenerate at all. I liked my eighth incarnation, tried everything to stop the process. It didn't work."

Amy blinked, taking off the leather jacket, "I see." She brushed back the lanky fringe from The Doctor's forehead, poking out from under the fedora. "It hurts, doesn't it? And you've gone through it ten times?"

The Doctor nodded, smiling down at Amy, "Sometimes it hurts more than others, but it always hurts," he admitted, removing the fedora. "Your entire body twists and conforms to an entirely different physicality. Even though your memories and your very self stays the same, another man gets up and walks away. _You_ walk away, in another body."

Amy cocked her head to the side, "So, it's not like a snake shedding its skin. Just another layer?"

The Doctor shook his head, "Oh…in a way. It's much more complicated, but I'm always me." He smiled at Amy, "Go on. I'll meet you and Mr Pond as soon as I find that elusive bow-tie."

Amy got to her feet and smiled, "I'll be waiting. Hurry it up, Raggedy man," she ordered, walking back down the stairs and exiting the room.

The Doctor smiled and glanced aside at where the top of something was peeking out over the top of the left pock of a military-style, deep brown coat, discarded nearby. "Hello, what's this?" He reached over and pulled out the novel. There was a blonde, curly haired woman in a fedora on the front; she was dressed in a trench-coat and holding a handgun.

"I don't remember ever reading this. Melody Malone. By A.J Williams. Hmm." The Doctor leaned back, "Why does that name sound so familiar?" He glanced at the cover, "Love the cover art. Reminds me of someone, too."

Shrugging, The Doctor got to his feet, "I haven't read a good pulp fiction novel in a long time. At least it'll give me something to do while the Ponds are smooching," he pocketed the novel and looked around again, finally spying what he'd been looking for.

"Ah ha!" The Doctor grabbed the blue velvet bow-tie. "There you are. And away I go." He got to his feet and hurried down the stairs, exiting into the hallway. "Autumn in Central Park with the Ponds, how very nice."

* * *

**The Epilogue will be up during the week. Thank-you for reading.**


	3. Epilogue

_**-Epilogue-**_

**R**iver Song watched her Time Lord husband slip silently into the TARDIS, the _Melody Malone_ novel gripped loosely in his left hand and his green eyes narrowed in pain.

"Oh my darling," River dropped the piece of the TARDIS control she was fixing and rushed to The Doctor's side, putting her arm around his waist. "What was in the afterward? What did–"

The Doctor passed over the novel to River, "Here," he said glibly –his voice hoarse– moving out of his wife's hold and moving across to the padded, worn, tanned booth-seat beside the console. Flopping down on the aforementioned piece of furniture, The Doctor swung his legs up so he was reclining and placed his hands on his face.

River looked down at the open page and scanned through it silently as she walked over to sit beside her husband, perching just on the edge of the booth.

"She tells me not to blame myself, River. But I do, I _do_!" The Doctor bemoaned. River placed her left hand on The Doctor's knee as she finished reading the afterward and then lowered the book, turning the cover around.

"A.J Williams…Doctor, how did you get this novel?"

Pulling his hands down from his features, The Doctor frowned. "I…I don't know. It was in my forth incarnation's coat pocket. Who knows how long it was in there? I'm not really in the habit of cleaning out my coat pockets," his eyes widened.

"There must be thousands of jelly babies –all melted into one big clump– in just about _all_ those pockets…"

River frowned and pointed to the name, "Don't you realise who penned this, sweetie?" She tapped the cover. "A.J Williams–"

The Doctor sat up, "Yes. I've heard that name before, but where….?"

Picking up her husband's hand, River pressed his fingers against each initial, "Amelia Jessica Williams. Amy Williams. Amy Pond." She pointed out and The Doctor stared down at the cover, before looking up at River.

"Amy Pond. Amy Williams. Amelia Jessica Williams. Amelia Williams…._Williams_!" The Doctor kissed River's mouth happily. "Sarah Jane Smith!" He took the novel from River and jumped to his feet, letting out a happy sigh.

"Sarah Jane Smith? Your old companion?" River questioned getting to her own, bare feet and standing beside The Doctor, who was nodding vigorously.

"Oh Sarah, this is what Amy gave you in that café all those years ago in New York!" The Doctor spun around and smiled at River. "My Sarah Jane. I remember everything now. River, I met your parents in New York City in 1975. Amy was the inspiration behind Sarah becoming a journalist; and she dragged me to New York to meet them." He paused and his face fell.

River lent her hand on The Doctor's arm, "What is it?"

The Doctor looked down at his wife, "We can't go see them at any point in their lives, River. The angels," he tossed the novel down on the console and chewed on his lower lip. "Although…we might. Yes." He pulled down the view screen and brought up a picture of the Williams grave.

"Eighty-two and eighty-six. Rory's death is too far out, but Amy's is 1986." The Doctor smiled over at River as he brought up the obituary, "Don't you see? It's a way to say a last good-bye. I want to do this."

River squeezed The Doctor's hand in her own, "So do I. But," she scanned her gaze through the obituary. "They don't give an address for the funeral, just that it's private. Family and friends only. Undisclosed location."

The Doctor tapped River's nose, "Ah ha. But I know who will be there, the author of the article, my Sarah Jane." He pointed out the name at the end of the article, pushing the view screen up and walking around to the other side of the TARDIS.

River smiled, "Of course! But, sweetie,' she followed her husband around and tapped his nose. "Aren't you forgetting something? Your paradoxes. Sarah Jane can't know about your future regeneration just yet, correct?"

The Doctor nodded and pointed at his wife, "You're right. Hold on," he squatted down and reached under the TARDIS, pulling out a chest. Unlocking it and pushing it open, The Doctor rummaged around in the ancient bits and pieces, before removing a small, dusty, circular, pin-like object.

Blowing on the object, The Doctor got to his feet and placed the pin into the console, "Download all visual of my appearance from…let see, in eighty-six I was technicolour, but I didn't see her at all in that time…it'll have to be the last regeneration Sarah Jane would have seen me…ah! Fifth incarnation." He ordered. The pin glowed purple, before returning to its natural, beaten bronze colour.

The Doctor pulled out the pin and attached it to his lapel. The Time Lord tapped the raised, half-dome of the pin. "Facial and physical alteration." He commanded into the pin. It glowed blue, before sending out a white shimmer over The Doctor's entire form.

River stepped back as the shimmer faded away, leaving behind a slender, blue-eyed man; with below ear-length, straight blond hair; dressed in a black suit, (white shirt, black tie) and sensible black shoes.

"Oh. Pretty boy, huh?"

The Doctor shot his wife a sad expression at that exclamation from her lips, "Please don't call me that," he still sounded like his eleventh incarnation and he cleared his throat. "Voice alternation." He ordered and the pin glowed again. "Right," he repeated, his voice changed to match his appearance. "I altered the clothing mentally , but it shouldn't affect the programming at all."

River nodded and placed a kiss on her husband's lips, "Okay, then. I'll got find something to wear," she put her hand on his shoulder. "Are you sure you're okay to do this? I mean, Sarah Jane as well…" River trailed off and The Doctor sighed heavily.

"Yes. I have to do this. For your mother. For you." _For me_. The Doctor added silently, glancing aside at his wife. "Are _you_ okay to do this?"

Lowering her eyes and sighing heavily, River lent her chin upon the hand she rested on The Doctor's shoulder, "I think I am. It's–" she breathed out, hard. "–it's full of such complicated emotions for me. This is my Mother's funeral. My _Mother_. The woman who never got to raise me. There's also Amy, who was my best friend from when we were children."

River pulled away from The Doctor and turned away, "I'm not sure who I'm mourning. My friend or the mother I was stolen from." She walked away from the TARDIS console area and down the stairs. "I may be a child of the TARDIS, Doctor, but I'm still human. And I'm so sad and angry right now about what my life has become, because of that fact, that I need to be alone for a little while."

Song glanced back over her shoulder.

"I need you to do this for me. Let me be Melody Pond-Williams today. Not your wife, not River Song. Just Amelia Pond and Rory Williams's daughter." River continued to stride towards the TARDIS quarters. "I love you, sweetie. But right now, I really need a moment away from you."

The Doctor pursed his lip and folded his arms, sighing heavily. He turned his attention back to setting course for their arrival date. Looking up, The Doctor furrowed his brow as he look at his reflection in the mirror on the console.

"Hello. I apologised to the TARDIS for that nasty radiation explosion when we regenerated into our eleventh form. We could have been a bit more careful about these things," The Doctor tapped the mirror glass. "Neither us nor the old girl are getting any younger." He folded his arms.

"We're going to Amelia Pond's funeral. You don't know her yet, but you'll love her so much. The ultimate ginger; the girl with a name like a fairytale, Amelia Pond." The Doctor rocked back on his heals, finding talking to his artificial reflection more therapeutic than he really should have.

"Ah, we're also going to see someone we know very well, our Sarah Jane." The Doctor grasped the edge of the console and leaned forward towards the mirror, his nose almost hitting the glass. "At least we'll have the opportunity to introduce Sarah to our wife. Surprising, isn't it? Nearly a thousand years after our first wedding, we marry a human. Well…a child of the TARDIS."

The Doctor folded his arms and smirked at the reflection of his artificially simulated, previous incarnation, "And I know what you're thinking, but we–" he darted his eyes to the side, "–we have to let what happens, happen. It saved everyone, River's sacrifice." He looked up.

"How much more of this, Doctor? When do we make an end, Foolish Wonderer?"

The Doctor heard the sound of heels behind him and turned to see River –dressed in a simple black dress, fitted black suit coat and plain black pumps– approaching. Her hair was pulled back in a chignon, covered with a black snood; holding in the majority of her usually unruly, blonde curls.

"All right," River walked up the stairs and sat down on the booth-seat, putting her black purse down beside her. "Set course, Doctor." She raised her hand, before The Doctor could say anything. "I heard the end of whatever you were mumbling about, sweetie. But we can talk later if you feel like it. When you're yourself and I'm back to being River."

The Doctor swallowed and smiled, "And that's why I love you, honey," he pointed at River. "But it was nothing. " The Time Lord turned back around, and adjusted the trajectory.

"Just a bit of self-reflection."

-xxx-

_13 Bannerman Road Ealing, November 29__th__ 1986_

Sarah Jane Smith was waiting in the sitting room with her bags packed, (dressed in comfortable clothing,) for the taxicab that was going to take her to the airport to catch her flight to New York.

Attending the funeral of her long-time friend and inspiration, Amelia Williams, was going to be a difficult task. But Amelia had lived a good, long life, with many accomplishments and accolades.

_A Pulitzer prize winner; and award winning career as a journalist. Eighty-six years; three grandchildren_, Sarah Jane looked around her large, empty house with a sigh and pushed back her dark brown fringe from her eyes.

"We could all be so lucky," Sarah Jane murmured, leaning over to her side table and picking up her cup of tea. Lifting up the cup from it's saucer, the thirty-five-year-old reporter was about to take a sip when there was a knocking on her door.

Putting down her cup, Sarah got to her feet and went to answer the door. _That was quick of the taxi company…_

Cautiously, Sarah Jane stepped up to the door and unlocked the deadbolt, but left the chain on. Peering around the side of the white painted door, Sarah Jane leapt a little –despite herself– when a pair of intent, blue eyes were staring right back at her.

"Hello Sarah Jane."

Sarah Jane hesitated, "Is that you, Doctor?" She smiled. "Yes, of course it is. I remember now, you regenerated. Hold on." She hurriedly closed the door and undid the chain bolt, before flinging open the door and pulling her old friend into a tight hug.

"Ooh!" Smith pulled back and stared up at The Doctor, who was smiling softly at her. "You _could_ have called beforehand. But I suppose you still enjoy dropping in unannounced on people, don't you?"

The Doctor bent down and kissed Sarah Jane's forehead, "You've always got my number, Sarah." He pulled her into another hug, inhaling her scent. "I missed you so much." The Doctor stepped back and smiled down at Smith.

Sarah Jane patted his arms, "Now, the last time I saw you was at that dreadful Tomb of Rassilon, how have you been? Are you still traveling with Tegan, wasn't it–? " She turned her head to the figure she'd barely acknowledged out of the corner of her eye, only to see the solemn blonde was not Tegan Jovanka. "–oh. How do you do?" Smith offered out her hand, "Sarah Jane Smith."

"River Song," the other woman replied, her blue eyes kind. "It's an honour to finally meet you. The Doctor's told me all about you, Ms Smith."

Sarah Jane glanced aside at The Doctor, "Has he now? Well, it's about time he starts opening up to the people he travels with. Please call me Sarah Jane," She smiled at River. "Has he given you the 'I'm a Time Lord. I practically walk in eternity' speech he's so fond of, yet?"

River laughed and pointed over at the sheepish looking alien man, "Oh yes, I know that one! The over-dramatic one, when he pulls the grouchy face and starts staring off solemnly into the distance," she pulled an uncanny mimic of The Doctor's solemn expression and widened her eyes dramatically.

Sarah Jane burst out laughing, "Yes! That's the one!" She exclaimed, before she and River then turned to see The Doctor looking slightly put out, as he watched the two women make fun of him.

"I _don't_ look like that! And what over-dramatic speech? I _am_ a Time Lord, I _do _walk in eternity…" The Doctor trailed off when River and Sarah Jane began to laugh even harder. "Oh all right. Ha ha. Human beings, _really_." He folded his arms. "Are you leaving for Amelia Williams' funeral soon, Sarah?"

Sarah Jane looked up at The Doctor as she wiped her eyes, "Amelia, yes. You remember her, then?" She smiled fondly. "She always remembered you. I got a call from Amelia when I was stuck overnight in Aberdeen, after you dropped me off there instead of in Croydon –"

"Sorry." The Doctor interrupted meekly.

"–I forgive you. Anyway," Sarah folded her arms and sighed, "Amelia called me at the inn I was staying at and asked if I was okay. She was in Edinburgh attending a conference and had already sent a taxi over." She cocked her head to the side and stared at The Doctor.

"I couldn't get an explanation from her at all when we met up. It wasn't until a month ago, when I visited her in hospital, that she admitted she was from the future and had met you then. Before being sent back by something call the Weeping Angels, to nineteen thirty-one. You had told her the story of leaving me accidentally in Aberdeen; and Amelia had arranged to make sure I was okay."

The Doctor narrowed his eyes and glanced over at River before turning back to his former companion, "I see. I– Sarah…" He moved to put his hand on her shoulder and Sarah Jane looked to see the slightly tanned hand turning paler.

"I remember that physical manipulator of yours. So that means…" Sarah Jane looked up at The Doctor, searching his eyes. "You're not The Doctor I met back at Rassilon's Tomb , are you?" She pointed, "You're from the distant future! That's why you came back for Amelia's funeral, you've already been there with her, haven't you?"

The Doctor lowered his eyes and turned around, walking a few steps away, "You always know, don't you Sarah?" _You were with me for such a long time…then you left me too soon…_

"What happens?" Sarah sighed heavily and sat down on one of the porch chairs, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. "You regenerate again, don't you? Oh Doctor…"

River walked over and squatted down next to Sarah, "Please, Sarah Jane. We only wanted to say a proper good-bye to Amy," she put her hand on Sarah's shoulder. "She was my mother."

Sarah Jane looked up at River, "Your mother?" She blinked and shook her head. "That's not possible. Amelia told me she couldn't have children, that's why Anthony was adopted; and she never mentioned adopting another child–"

"Anthony?" River interrupted with surprise; and The Doctor unfolded his arms and turned around, walking over to the women to find out what Sarah Jane was talking about.

"Her son. You remember her talking about him, don't you, Doctor?" Smith looked up as she questioned The Doctor, who looked gobsmacked as he remembered.

"Yes. Of course! I'm so sorry, River." The Doctor addressed his shocked looking wife, who was leaning back, raising her hand to her mouth. "I should have told you after I put two and two together." He put his hand on River's shoulder.

Sarah Jane studied River's features, "You…you do look a little like Dr. Williams." She offered, "And you have Amelia's eyes…but how–?"

River explained to Sarah Jane what had happened to separate her from her parents and how the TARDIS had affected her physiology, "…so you see, Sarah Jane, I am really their biological daughter." She assured the younger woman. "And I promise we won't cause any sort of fuss and I won't say who I really am–"

"That's not fair," Sarah Jane put her hand on River's shoulder kindly. "Anthony has a right to meet you. He knows about The Doctor, Amelia told him stories. I'm very sure she told him about you as well, River."

The Doctor squatted down to put his hand on River's other shoulder, "Sarah is right, River," he squeezed his wife's shoulder. "It'll be all right to tell your brother. This is your mother's funeral, honey."

Sarah Jane raised her brow, "_Honey_? Well that's a new one." She pointed out. "'Honey' is definitely not something I've heard you call a companion before. Something you'd like to tell me, Doctor?" The reporter annunciated the last few words with a deliberate emphasis.

The Doctor blushed and rubbed the back of his neck, "Can I tell you later? It's not really something I should mention right now. Paradox, you see?" He grinned and Sarah Jane rolled her eyes, looking exasperatedly over at where River had an eyebrow raised.

"There's a lovely new word from you, as well, Doctor. It's not like we haven't heard _that_ one, half-a-million times before," Sarah Jane got to her feet and sighed. "We'd best be off then. I'll go get my bags–"

The Doctor pointed, "Just a carry-on. I'll drop you back here, quick as a flash, afterwards."

Sarah Jane shook her head as she walked back into the house, patting River's shoulder as she did, "Quite a convenience sometimes, isn't he? Pity about the rest of the time." Smith commented, flashing The Doctor a small smile as she darted in through the front door.

The Doctor got to his feet and offered River his hand, "I told you you'd like my Sarah Jane, didn't I?" He questioned, helping his wife to her heeled feet.

"Yes I do like Sarah Jane, very much." River folded her arms over her chest. "Frankly I'm surprise you never had anything romantic with her."

The Doctor blinked, "With _Sarah_?"

River cocked her head to the side, "Yes. She gets along better with you than anyone I've seen, including me." She tucked a loose tendril of hair back into place. "It's a wonder you didn't stay together, or marry, to be perfectly honest. She and you were together a long time."

The Doctor bit his lower lip and folded his own arms across his chest, "I didn't really think about those sort of things, back in the day. It's not that–" he pushed back his hair. "– I _know_ Sarah felt that way about me. But I couldn't –or wouldn't, rather– get involved with anyone back in that time, because I was frightened of so many things then."

River pursed her lips and put her hand on The Doctor's arm, "You were afraid to love her because of her mortality, sweetie. Am I right?"

The Doctor smiled thinly and glanced away, "I sometimes hate the man I've been. My third incarnation loved Sarah so much; but my fourth was so frightened of those feelings. I kept pushing her away until she was growing tired of being with me. If the Time Lords hadn't sent out a summon, I think we still would have parted." He placed his hand atop River's.

"I regret it. But I don't regret learning my lesson, because it lead me somewhere special. It lead me to you, with none of those silly fears."

River pulled The Doctor's head down and kissed his forehead, "Oh, sweetie. You're lying to me about having no fears, I can see it in your eyes," she pulled back. "But I appreciate the sentiment. I know how hard these things are for you."

There was the sound of the front door closing and a jingle of keys as Sarah Jane stepped out with a carry-on bag, locking the door behind her.

"All right then. Have you got any new stories for me about our Doctor, River? Or would you like to hear some of mine?" Sarah Jane asked, linking her arm through River's and leading her across the driveway.

River smiled down at Sarah Jane, "I have some, but I bet you have dozens more; and I'd love to hear them. Start with the most embarrassing ones." She insisted, both of the women of chuckling when they heard The Doctor mock groan behind them, as they walked away.

Folding his arms across his chest, The Doctor smiled and sighed, "My girls." He murmured fondly, following a few feet behind River and Sarah, grinning as he heard them laugh about something, he didn't quite catch.

"…in those days he could barely pilot the TARDIS, although he insisted he knew exactly what he was doing–"

"My dear Sarah Jane, he's only gotten a little better at it. And you know it's because the TARDIS loves him, that sometimes you do actually get to the right destination…"

The Doctor rolled his eyes, almost into the back of his head as he followed his wife and former companion down the street. "Why is it only human women ever drive me this crazy?" He wondered out loud.

-xxx-

_New York, St Paul's Cathedral, November 30__th__ 1986_

The TARDIS had landed discretely beside a dumpster in a alleyway just across from the 18th century cathedral of St Paul in Manhattan. The oldest church in New York surrounded by one of its oldest cemeteries, George Washington himself had worshiped under it's steepled roof; and just over fifteen years from that moment, it would be used as one of the makeshift shelters for the victims of 9/11.

The Doctor stepped out first and offered his hand, first to River and then to Sarah Jane, (now dressed in a simple, fitted back dress –that stopped just above her knees– and a black bolero.)

Offering his arms, The Doctor looked quietly solemn as River and Sarah Jane linked their respective arms through his offered ones; and The Time Lord lead his female companions out of the alleyway.

The Doctor had heard River and Sarah Jane talking in hushed tones during their short trip in the TARDIS, while they thought he was preoccupied and out of hearing range, tinkering under the console.

"_It's not like the Doctor to attend funerals. He doesn't like endings." Sarah Jane had mentioned quietly and River had sighed heavily._

"_Neither he does. But my mother was very close to him, Sarah Jane. I think he's getting old, and part of him is learning to accept, and seek out, closure." Song had reasoned._

"_How old is he now…wait. I don't think we can really judge him on human aging, can we? What is a Gallifreyan alternative to youth or adulthood? How long do they live, do you know?" Sarah Jane had posed the question to River._

_The Doctor had lowered his gaze and stopped using his sonic screwdriver, waiting to hear what River was going to say. __**How much does she know**__? He hadn't, to his recollection, told her much about the Gallifreyan race…but who knew what River did know ,completely, at all?_

"_He's never told me. And most records on the Gallifreyan people were sealed at the University where I studied, probably by him, knowing The Doctor. It could easily be well over thousands of years." _

_Sarah Jane sighed heavily and The Doctor could hear her biting a thumbnail, "He had children, you know. Grandchildren, even. He told me so." She mentioned._

_River hummed an acknowledgment of that fact, "I know. But this much I also know, Gallifreyan's very rarely have children after the age of three hundred years of age. They're such a long-lived species and this practice of not breeding after a certain age, was already in practice long before they had to be created, rather than birthed." She explained mildly._

"_The Doctor is an anomaly, you know. He has a navel, like he was birthed, rather than loomed."_

_The Doctor almost fell out of his support-harness at that revelation from River, __**How did she know that? I didn't tell her anything…she would have figured it out, you simpleton, she's seen you naked after all…**_

"_Really? He did tell me that he was often outcast by the other Time Lords." Sarah Jane paused, "River. How many regenerations does a Time Lord have? Amy told me that he was on number eleven already when she met him."_

_There was a heavy sigh from River and The Doctor bit his lower lip._

"_Traditionally they have twelve, that's why they're so long lived. Usually they don't regenerate until their body gives up at around about nine hundred years old, then they regenerate to live out their next nine hundred years or so; and so on–"_

"_But he's used up ten of them in fifty years!" Sarah Jane exclaimed. "Oh my poor Doctor…do you think he regrets, doing what he does, I mean? Saving the galaxy and fighting to often the bitter end?"_

_River let out a much softer sigh this time, "I think he considers it his duty and honour, far more than he ever would have expected to. From what I've been told, Gallifreyans are not adventure seekers and had millions of laws in place about interference in the matters of the universe. The Doctor was seen as an outcast by his own people; but as a savior to the majority of the rest of the universe." _

_The Doctor began to unlatch himself from his harness, as the brakes on the TARDIS began to whirl with their familiar sound, he barely made out the last of Sarah Jane and River's conversation as he began to climb out from under the console, reaching for his discarded suit jacket._

"_But what drives him to have been so different from his own people, River? What has given him this task? Has he ever told you?"_

"_Not yet, Sarah Jane. But I think, maybe, everything is best left unsaid until he thinks the time is right…or perhaps, when he is left with no choice."_

The Doctor, River and Sarah Jane crossed the road and stopped outside the cathedral at the gates. Up ahead, near the aged wooden doors, The Doctor saw the black hearse, the boot of the car open and the far end of the coffin, covered in an array of large, yellow sunflowers.

Taking in a deep breath, The Doctor was fighting the urge to run back to the TARDIS and burry himself somewhere in the far reaches of his ship. One of the disused rooms…Susan's room maybe, curl himself up into a huddled mass and weep for every loss that pained his hearts.

Instinctively, both River and Sarah grabbed each of his hands and squeezed them tightly, leaning their heads against his arms.

"Doctor. It's all right, you know? You can go back to the TARDIS and River and I–"

"No." The Doctor interrupted firmly, glancing down at Sarah Jane with a solemn, pain expression. "No, Sarah, that's my Amelia Pond outside that church. She would never forgive me for being late for another ceremony…and as for running away." He shook his head. "No. No, I promised I would always come back for her; and this is the last time I…"

River pulled her husband into a hug and let him cry into her hair, "Shh." She rubbed his back and then slowly pulled him back. "We're both here for you, Sarah Jane and I. Let us shoulder some of your burden, for a little while. You can mourn and grieve as much as you feel you must, you don't have to hide your feelings today, Doctor."

The Doctor nodded and took both River and Sarah Jane's hands. "Both of you mustn't leave me today," he mumbled, as the trio walked into the churchyard. "Nobody else goes from my sight today."

Crossing towards the cathedral, a small crowd of mourners were gathered outside the cathedral on the steps leading up into St Paul's. The Doctor stopped at the hearse and took in a sharp breath, the sight of all those sunflowers…

River and Sarah Jane stopped with him, but after a moment, The Doctor turned towards the cathedral and lead them up the stairs and in through the open wooden doors.

Looking around in the foyer, The Doctor could see an array of mourners, but his eyes settled on the small family sitting in the corner; consisting of a couple, twin boys (who looked about three or four years old,); and he also spied a small baby with a bonnet, being held by the woman.

There was an older couple talking to the parents, but the boys were left to their own devices, absently kicking their skinny legs back and fourth; their black shoe clad feet no where near to the polished floor.

The Doctor let go of River and Sarah Jane's hand and headed straight over for the family, his wife and former companion following after him.

The two boys looked up as the strange, blond-haired man squatted down in front of them, blinking their large, brown eyes up at him.

"Hello there." The Doctor greeted, flashing a wide smile. "I'm The Doctor. What are your names?"

The boy on the left pointed to his chest, "I'm Vincent."

The boy on the right mimicked his brother, "I'm John."

The Doctor nodded, smiling even broader, "Those are very nice names." He offered. "This is River," he motioned to his wife, who squatted down to smile at the boys, who returned her smile shyly. The Doctor pointed up at Sarah Jane. "And this is Sarah Jane."

The boys nodded, "We know Sarah Jane." They said together.

"She was Grandma Amy's friend." John pointed out. "She's from England an' she brings us big lollipops. Are you from England?"

The Doctor grinned, "Sort of," he replied with a grin, noticing that now the older couple had moved on and the attention of Vincent and John's parents were on the three adults, conversing with their sons.

The Doctor got to his feet as Sarah Jane bent down to embrace the man on the pew.

"Anthony, I'm so sorry." Smith said simply.

Anthony Williams was just under six foot in height and strongly built; his eyes were a light brown and his hair was just slightly darker than his gaze. He sported a well-trimmed beard and a kindly expression.

"Thank-you for coming Sarah Jane," Anthony thanked in his soft, New Yorker accented voice. The forty-one-year old man looked over the reporter's shoulder at The Doctor and River. He blinked a moment, then studied River. "It's you, isn't it? River Song?"

River nodded slowly and Sarah Jane stepped aside to allow Anthony to stand and walk the short distance to his adopted sister.

Brother and sister hesitated only a moment, before Anthony pulled River into a furious hug and held her tightly, as the tears began to flow.

"I've waited so long to meet you," Anthony pulled River back and walked her over to his wife. "This is my wife, Felicity." The dark haired woman held out her hand to River, who took it and smiled down at her brother's lovely wife. "My sons, Vincent and John; and," the man bent down to take the chubby baby from his wife's arms.

Dawdling her expertly, Anthony held the baby out to River. "This is Melody."

River held the back of her hand to her mouth with a surprised smile, "Melody?" She blinked up at Anthony with surprise, who nodded and smiled, "May I?"

Passing over the six-month-old easily into her Aunt's arms, River cradled the infant, who was chewing on her chubby fist and regarding her namesake with large, dark eyes.

Anthony turned his gaze over to his sister's male companion, "Have we met?" Williams inquired and The Doctor shook his head.

"No. No, not directly, not yet. I'm The Doctor–"

"Doctor…?" Anthony's eyes widened and he stared up at the slightly taller man, "As in _The_ Doctor?" He grabbed The Doctor's hand and shook it excitedly. "My parents told me stories about you all my life." Williams narrowed his eyes seriously. "Thank-you."

The Doctor blinked, being thanked was not what he had expected from today, "For what?" He questioned cautiously.

Anthony put his free hand on The Doctor's shoulder, "I owe you my life, Doctor." He smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners. "If not for my parents traveling with you, I would not have been adopted by them and had the best father and mother I could have ever wished for."

The Doctor bit his lower lip, the tears beginning to weal in the corner of his ancient eyes, "Oh, Anthony Pond-Williams." He pulled Anthony into a hug, shocking the younger man and surprising his companions. "You are absolutely brilliant. Thank-_you_." The Doctor pulled back and grinned.

"You're…welcome?" Anthony replied uncertainly, with a raised brow and a glance over at his sister, before turning back to The Doctor. "There is another favour I'd like to ask of you." He turned solemn.

"We need an extra pall-bearer, because one of the volunteers broke his ankle last night. Would you be able–I mean, I understand if it would be too difficult for–"

The Doctor put his hand on Anthony's shoulder, "No. It's all right. I consider it a great honour. Your mother was one of my best friends, I loved her very much," The Doctor's voice broke on the last syllable and he lowered his blue eyes.

The rest of the funeral was a blur to The Doctor, he helped Anthony and the other pole-bearers bring in the mahogany coffin. The lid –covered in a bouquet of huge sunflowers– was to remain closed at the deceased's last will and testament.

The Doctor had taken his seat on a pew between River and Sarah Jane, only half-listening to the eulogies delivered by first the minister and then friends of Amelia. She had lived a whole lifetime apart from him, published author; journalist; philanthropist; mother and grandmother.

Anthony eulogy was full of fond stories of his mother and father, growing up with a writer and a doctor had given him contacts with famous and interesting people. But it was when Anthony began to talk about Amelia as a grandmother, that The Doctor gave his full attention.

"…when I told my mother that I had suggested to Felicity– when we'd been unable to agree on any names for our sons–that we ask her instead for suggestions, my mother gave us only two names. Vincent, after her favorite artist Vincent van Gogh; and John," Anthony lifted his gaze to The Doctor. "After a very dear friend of hers who sometimes went by that name."

The Doctor took in a deep breath and smiled fondly, looking down at his folded hands, _Amelia Pond_…

"When my daughter was born, my mother also suggested Melody to us, after my sister, whom she had been separated from, many years ago," Anthony continued, smiling over at River; who was holding her namesake, dawdling the little bundle, who was chewing thoughtfully on her chubby fist.

"She always said names were very important–" Anthony shuffled his notes on the podium stand as his voice became choked up; and he took in a shaky breath. "–that children should have strong names, so that they can go and live; really live. Have so many adventures and not be afraid to take chances and dream as big as they can."

The Doctor reached out to take Sarah Jane's hand, his former companion patting his hand comfortingly; not letting it go until the ceremony was over and he had to join the other pall-bearers, to assist in Amelia Jessica Pond's journey to her final resting place.

-xxx-

_New York, Manhattan Cemetery, November 30__th__ 1986_

The Doctor stood solemnly at Amelia's graveside as everyone else had started to disperse, gazing down at the mahogany coffin, covered already with a handful of dirt and numerous more sunflowers tossed atop of its lid.

Lost in thought, The Time Lord turned his gaze to the tombstone placed above the double plot. Already engraved, The Doctor squatted down and traced his hand over the lettering, his artificially blue eyes narrowing as he murmured under his breath.

"Rory Williams, good on you mate. Amelia Pond-Williams, the girl with a name like a fairy tale…"

The Doctor felt the presence of someone beside him, and looked up to see Anthony Williams, holding his little daughter and smiling kindly at him.

"They both loved you, Doctor." Anthony moved Melody to his hip, as The Doctor got to his feet and folded his arms over his chest. "The way they used to light up when they told me stories about traveling with you. All the good, all the bad…the exciting and dangerous…but how they always knew that somehow you'd try to make things okay in the end."

The Doctor set his eyes with narrowed pain upon Anthony, "I–Anthony, I couldn't save them in–"

Anthony put his free hand on The Doctor's shoulder, "But you let my mother go to my father, that was selfless of you," his copper-coloured eyes searched The Doctor's features, seeing the cold pain still ingrained across them. Glancing away, Anthony looked over at the tombstone of his adopted parents.

"You know, I loved my mother; but I was closest with my Dad." Williams mentioned, looking off into the distance, "I would tell him everything and I always felt that I could. There were no secrets I ever kept from him…" Anthony looked back at The Doctor. "…except one. Felicity was pregnant with Vincent and John, and my father's birthday was coming up; so I thought I would save the surprise for then."

Walking around the graveside to place his hand on the tombstone, Anthony closed his eyes, "The week before his eighty-third birthday, my Dad had a massive and sudden heart-attack," he looked over at The Doctor. "I went to the hospital, but it was too late. I'd missed my chance to tell my Dad that he was going to be a grandpa."

The Doctor remembered when his own son had told him about his first grandchild being created. The idea that poor Anthony had been wanting to surprise Rory with such important news, and had been robbed of that opportunity, was saddening.

"I know your father would have been proud and overjoyed," The Doctor murmured kindly .

Anthony nodded and walked back over to the Time Lord, putting in Melody's white pacifier, as the baby began to fuss and bob up and down. "I know. But that's not what I meant, Doctor," he tilted his head slightly to the side.

"You're my brother-in-law, in actuality, so I'm going to be blunt with you. If you have someone out there, relative or otherwise, that you know you have to say something to, don't wait." Williams narrowed his eyes, "If there is something my mother told me about you, it's that you need someone to talk to that doesn't mess around and gets straight to the point. Someone you can be completely honest with; and that isn't always my sister, is it?"

The Doctor rubbed his eyes, "No…but I think there is one person left in the universe that I can be completely honest with, Anthony," he placed his hand on his brother-in-law's shoulder. "Thank-you."

Anthony smiled and inclined his head, "I've got to get Melody back to her mother," he raised an eyebrow. "You know you're welcome to come and see us anytime, Doctor. If you ever need a friend or somewhere to stay, you're family, remember that."

The Doctor gave a small smile in return, "You can't know how much that means to me…brother," he added quietly, offering out his hand; and Anthony shook the offered hand with a nod, before turning to walk away across the cemetery. The Doctor realised something and called out after his brother-in-law.

"Anthony? I never did ask, what do you do for a living?"

Williams stopped and half-turned, "I'm a medical writer. It seemed only fair to honour both my parents," he replied, giving the Time Lord another small smile before turning back around and continuing on his way with his daughter.

Sighing, The Doctor looked back down at the dual burial plot with a solemn expression. "Your son and your grandchildren are brilliant. Your daughter is brilliant. You two were brilliant." He placed his hand on the tombstone with a thin, painful smile. "I miss you both."

-xxx-

After taking Sarah Jane back to her house in Ealing, with the promise that she wouldn't let the next incarnation of The Doctor that she encountered know about this visit, The Doctor said his good-bye.

"_And you have my complete permission to chew the younger me out over leaving you in Aberdeen," The Doctor whispered in Sarah Jane's ear, pulling back from their embrace with a small smile, cupping her face in his right hand and Sarah Jane smiled back up at him._

"_Good. I am curious about this eleventh incarnation of yours," Smith cocked her head to the side, "I know you can't let me see you now. But tell me, will I, one day?"_

_The Doctor kissed Sarah Jane's forehead and pulled her into another hug, "You will. You'll know it's me too. You always know." He murmured into her hair._

_Sarah Jane pulled back and sighed, looking over at River, who was leaning against the TARDIS. "You don't need to say anything to me but…I know who River is, to you, I mean. I figured it out by the way she looked at you, the moment we met." She revealed and The Doctor looked down at his feet._

"_Sarah–"_

_Placing a hand on The Doctor's shoulder, Sarah Jane smiled painfully, "I can't say I'm not envious of that fact. Or that I don't question why it couldn't have been me," she pushed back The Doctor's hair from his face and shook her head. _

"_But I like River very much. She's just like her mother and I loved Amelia. I can't really be sad when I can see how much you love each other…how much you love her." _

_The Doctor looked up and kissed Sarah-Jane's cheek, "My wonderful Sarah Jane." He pulled her into a final hug. "I'll never stop loving you. You will never leave my thoughts or my hearts, not for a second. Not ever."_

River had been surprised when The Doctor requested that she stay with him for a little while, because there was somewhere that he needed to be, with her by his side.

The porch of a townhouse in San Francisco was not where River Song had expected to be standing after the solemn request from her husband, after he'd shed his funeral clothes and removed the physically altering pin from his lapel.

But, nevertheless, River noticed the slight apprehension mixed with resolve on her husband's face and lifted his hand to kiss the back of it. The Doctor smiled down distractedly at his wife, before taking in a deep breath and pressing the doorbell button.

There was only a moment before footsteps were heard and the front door of the townhouse opened; revealing a stern looking man, with ancient blue eyes and a well trimmed, greying beard.

He stared at The Doctor for a moment, before blinking once and sighing heavily as he removed his national-health styled glasses, "Theta."

The Doctor smiled thinly, "Hello, Father."

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed this story. Thank-you for reading.**


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